Evil is Just a Point of View
by Darth Sus
Summary: The VizJaq'taar Assassins have one purpose to destroy magical corruption. Diablo 2 Harry Potter cross. Rated for violence.
1. Built For the Kill

Disclaimer : I own Zieth and my opinion. Everything else belongs to their respective creators, owners, gods, designers, programmers, so on and so forth, whoever they may be. There's far too many to list.

I make absolutely _no_ apology for what I'm about to do. However, note:

1 – this is not a story for children. It has this rating because I plan to use a little gore later on. Kids – leave.

2 – too many of my friends are Rowlingites. So, my darlinks, remember my philosophy on this kind of thing: be offended only if you want to be. The choice you make there has absolutely nothing to do with me, so don't come to me saying I've horribly offended you with my opinion, because this is not aimed at your opinion. Right? Everyone else who can't handle the fact I have my own opinion can get stuffed and go to hell twice. You have yours, I have mine. (NOTE : PMS is bad for your health. (Yours, as in you reading.) Grumpy and in pain leads to no end of anger and sparks of hatred. The object of my current hatred and thus the victim of this fic was in the wrong place at the wrong time, doing the wrong thing. ... Although, I might have done it anyway. Who can tell?)

Evil is Just a Point of View

1 - Built for the Kill

Zieth tightened her grip on the bars of her claws, a moment before slicing the triple-pronged weapon into the stuffed dummy, twisting her wrist slightly as she tore effortlessly through the tough material.

She was but one member of the secret order of the Viz-Jaq'taar, the Order of Mage-Slayers, the Witch-Hunters, the Assassins. Spawned from the long dead Vizjerei mage-clan and dedicated to a life spent destroying the corruption of magic, the Viz-Jaq'taar were known only as rumour, whispers in the night, faint noises in the woods just beyond vision. Shadows on the minds of magic-users everywhere – the widespread fear of their retribution had kept many a magical being away from the temptations of corruption.

As rumour had it, the Viz-Jaq'taar could not be stopped. Once their target was determined, it was only a matter of time, the power of their victim of no consequence. Zieth knew this... she had destroyed the Prime Evils of Horad; Mephisto, Lord of Hatred; Diablo, Lord of Terror; Baal, Lord of Destruction. But she was not alone in her prized kills, for many of her fellow Viz-Jaq'taar had deaths of similar stature against their names.

The Assassins were impeccably trained, maintaining the purest, most focused minds to keep their own order from a downfall into corruption. Their fearsome power was drawn from within, and a direct use of magic was avoided and forbidden. Instead, the Viz-Jaq'taar used items enchanted to mimic the elemental powers, namely their trademark wrist claws and katars. The natural abilities of the body were held in focus alongside their claw training – masters of the martial arts and the powers of the mind.

Quite simply, built for the kill.

Zieth turned to look at the now headless dummy, at the clean tear her claws had left behind, though the material now oozed and hissed with the traces of acid that laced her weapon. Of course, a true opponent would fight back if given the chance, but as a rule, an Assassin could never have enough training.

"If you are done..." Zieth turned her head towards the ramp of the combat pit, seeing only a silhouette at its peak. But the voice she recognised. Natalya had helped her with valuable information back in Kurast, when she had finally caught up with the Prime Evils and had since been working on information sifting for the Viz-Jaq'taar's Planar Travellers, Assassins who used elemental portals to travel the planes, to distant worlds, seeking out magical corruption. Worlds who had not held the Viz-Jaq'taar's attention as intensely as Horad were often rife with it, and more often than not, whole legions of Assassins were sent to silently remove the taint, vanishing back into the planes, untraceable, before anyone could find them.

Even as Zieth mounted the ramp, Natalya was talking. "The Planars have returned. Our campaign against Toril will have to be paused. We have found a more pressing matter."

"More pressing than the Underdark of Toril?" Zieth asked, surprised. Since when was something more pressing than a Arch-Duke of Hell attempting to take over the world? Natalya nodded and began leading her down the hallways of the Order's hidden home.

"A world living in two halves. One half, rife with magic while the other knows nothing of it. And it seems war has come to those with magic." Natalya looked intently at Zieth. "I tell you because we want you there. We need all the Viz-Jaq'taar we can spare. This magical world is immense. Already the Planars are pinpointing the pockets of magical society, tracking down wayward individuals. Our rejuvenation wells are being put into full production, so that we may all survive this huge assault. Our adversaries are well trained in their art."

"They are magic, just like every other we have taken."

"Exactly. We have the power of the elementals."

"And this war... are we aiding one side? Aiding neither?"

"They are endangering their entire world, endangering those who are ignorant of their existence and this _war_," Natalya spat the word. "_They_ have already formed their factions, good and evil."

"Evil is just a point of view," Zieth reminded her.

"Yes. Our point of view says that the endangerment of their world is evil." The two Viz-Jaq'taar women stopped and looked at each other.

"What is this world?" Zieth asked. Not that it was important. In fact, some Assassins never wanted to know where they were going if they could help it. They felt it helped distance them. Zieth needed no such aid in removing herself from the killing.

"It is called Earth."

Okay. Who knows whether or not the Viz-Jaq'taar would actually do all this? Who cares? I love the Diablo Assassins and I am using them to do something I want to do. If anyone knows the name of the world in which Diablo was set, please let me know. I didn't and couldn't find it, so just used Horad (yes, from the Horadrim, bless (or damn) them.)


	2. The Storm Begins

Disclaimer : I own Zieth and my opinion. Everything else belongs to their respective creators, owners, gods, designers, programmers, so on and so forth, whoever they may be. There's far too many to list.

I still make absolutely _no_ apology for what I'm doing. For soothing notes, see the start of chapter 1.

This is still not a story for children. It has this rating because I plan to use a little gore. Children, leave now. If you are still reading this, know I will not be responsible for any behaviour occuring later on in your life, be it two minutes from now or twenty years.

Feel free to review, but don't bother making any fuss about Rowling corrections and accuracy. I quite honestly couldn't care less, as should become blatantly obvious.

The Assassins' morality seems to have been replaced by a sort of Terminator-style reasoning and 'get-the-mission-done' attitude... oh well. That's how it is then.

Evil is Just a Point of View

2 - The Storm Begins

The wind whipped up in the trees, rustling the leaves. The Viz-Jaq'taar party ignored it utterly, knowing it was nothing more than the wind. If it had been even a mere grazing animal, they would have known. Wind posed no danger to them.

Zieth walked as silently as the rest of them, something that appeared to be no small feat, not with their suits of gothic plate armour, each enchanted to its wearers own desires and needs. Protections against curses, charms, spells... if it could be hurled at them magically, it had been. The Assassins had ways to combat it.

In the dark of night, they appeared as mere duplicates of each other. For all the differences in armour applications, the outward visage of them was the same – red, black and gold plate armour, a large belt with row upon row of rich purple potions. Some carried katars, some claws, others a combination. Some wore helms while the remainder bore enchanted circlets. But their hair was cut short, be it a male or female Viz-Jaq'taar who walked through the forest. And the secure feeling of their own power that each bore. They were capable, they had a purpose, and they could not be stopped.

It was a world as equally beautiful and boring as any other, Zieth had thought on arrival, while the light of their portal had still shone, before it closed on itself, never to be again. Another would have to be opened to allow them to leave.

But they would not leave until the task at hand was complete. When those corrupted magic-users had been wiped from the world, their threat gone.

It was beginning.

(hmm... I think I'm about to get hazy on whats going on)

(it doesnt help that there's a cat sitting on my keyboard and it refuses to move)

Short chapter. Turned out to be more of an interlude. Oops.


	3. Taking the Castle

Disclaimer : I own Zieth and my opinion. Everything else belongs to their respective creators, owners, gods, designers, programmers, so on and so forth, whoever they may be. There's far too many to list.

I still make absolutely _no_ apology for what I'm doing. For soothing notes, see the start of chapter 1.

This is still not a story for children. It has this rating because I plan to use a little gore. Children, leave now. If you are still reading this, know I will not be responsible for any behaviour occuring later on in your life, be it two minutes from now or twenty years.

Feel free to review, but don't bother making any fuss about Rowling corrections and accuracy. I quite honestly couldn't care less, as should become blatantly obvious.

The Assassins' morality seems to have been replaced by a sort of Terminator-style reasoning and 'get-the-mission-done' attitude... oh well. That's how it is then.

For any of the Assassin spells/skills, please check out Diablo 2. They will be mentioned here as from the point of view of an Assassin – simply as a skill that they all understand and can use. Apologies if they are not used completely correctly. Particularly Cloak of Shadows.

Evil is Just a Point of View

3 – Taking the Castle

"It is a _school_," Varn announced to the group quietly, and with some disdain, as the Viz-Jaq'taar surveyed the castle ahead of them. "It seems though, that it and its inhabitants have been somewhat instrumental in their war."

"It is thick with magic," another Assassin spoke up. "Probably magics to prevent people from teleporting in."

"Well, we are not teleporting," Zieth responded. "We are not using any magic at all. Any anti-magic charms in place will be useless. Such is our way," she said softly. It was true, the portals the Viz-Jaq'taar used were ripped through the air itself, or in the planar fabric. It was a mere distortion of distance and place.

She glanced over her shoulder at the awaiting Viz-Jaq'taar. Their number was unknown to her, for there were far too many to count. They meant to destroy the corruption they saw on this world, and as Natalya had said, they needed every Assassin they could spare. Only two places had needed the attention of the full strength of the horde.

This was the second. Their claws already dripped the blood of the first.

The war that had been waged was already over, one side defeated, the serpents head removed.

But the methods taken by either side were inexcusable. Corruption would be utterly removed. No matter what the cost, Zieth thought, considering the school. Children. Children who had no doubt been poisoned by the values of their elders, of their teachers. Children who could have been equally a part of it. They had no time to stop, to question, not now. The Planar Travellers had already identified this place as one that needed eradicating. It would be done.

Whispers had already reached the inner walls of Hogwarts.

Not of the veritable army that stood at its borders, readying for the strike. It was not possible that they knew, not when the rumours inside spoke of a lighter fate.

Voldemort defeated.

By who, no-one knew, all the rumours spoke of was shadows. Spirals of light that erupted into flames, into thunderstorms, into blizzards.

His followers defeated.

Rumours travelled fast in the magical realm, for the Assassins had struck only a day before. They had fought, they had destroyed, with all the grace and silence of their Order, and retreated to their own realm to replenish the stores from the rejuvenation wells. The plan had been well thought out. All it took was a perfectly trained army to carry it out. The Viz-Jaq'taar were that army.

If only rumour had spoken of the Witch-Hunters and their true intent. An intent not to destroy their opponents, but an intent to destroy evil.

And evil is just a point of view.

The war was over. Their final battle was about to begin.

With dawn, the castle courtyards were empty. A single scout had determined that for the Assassins. The threat was inside, so inside they would go.

A sound of wind was all the indicated that the portals had been opened, tearing through the physical world with all the strength of a hurricane, whipping the Witch-Hunters swiftly through its wind-passages, past the locked doors of the castles gates. Countless dozens of the shadows spilled through the windy opening, fully prepared for the battle ahead. Blade shields were already in motion, an orb of spinning blades that encircled each Assassin. Claws, cleaned of their last slaughter, were shining and ready, the enchantments strengthened.

As they left the portal and ducked silently down the huge halls, groups split away, employing Dragon Flight to move away quickly and silently. Traps were laid, sentinels put into place.

The largest of the Assassin parties moved towards what felt to be a huge pocket of magic. They could smell it, they could feel it, they knew that there were magic-users at hand. They were not called Witch-Hunters for nothing.

They had no time to marvel at the Great Hall. It was nothing new to them, some had even seen magic more spectacular. What was important was the group of witches and wizards that were in the hall. Children, they were not. Magic ran strong in all of their veins. An older wizard stood as they entered the Hall, demanding to know who they were. But the Assassins ignored him, moving forwards like great-cats, silent and deadly, claws unsheathed.

The wizards knew the intent of the Viz-Jaq'taar then. They saw in the determination of their grim faces that they were here to destroy. They saw on the gleam of their claws that they were here to kill.

Wands were pulled free, spells hurtled towards them, some strong enough to set the Viz-Jaq'taar back., if they hit. For the Witch-Hunters were agile through constant training, ducking or slipping away. For those that did not move, most lost only a few blades from their rotating shields. To most, the magic was futile. The protective enchantments beaten into the metal of their armour had withstood the ravages of Hell-Lords, of world dominating Liches, of spell-casting dragons. In all, the magic of Earth was nothing next to those great powers.

They did not need to speak to know the next attack of their move.

The unanimous casting of fifty Cloak of Shadows blanketed the entire area and no light would ever cast it away. And in the heavy gloom, the Assassins number doubled.

The Shadow Master was one of the Viz-Jaq'taar's greatest skills.

Strengthened, covered, the Assassins moved in for the kill. Trained to see in the dark, for what use a shadow skills if one cannot see properly when you utilise them, the Assassins knew their enemy from their allies.

Their claws did not simply rend through flesh, tearing through veins, spilling blood. The allowed the Viz-Jaq'taar to bring to focus the power of the elements. Fiery meteors rained from the sky, wheeling sparks of lightning tore through the room and the chill touch of ice froze flesh hard enough to be shattered.

It is not to say that no Assassin fell, or that no Assassin had ever fallen. But unlike their opponents, the Viz-Jaq'taar had a pact with the angels of their world, who would recover their dead and return them to life if that was their wish, to return to the attack.

They were unstoppable.

Yes, its bias. Aren't we all? And no, I don't personally think that the books or their characters are evil (I'm not some religious nut doing some demon-spawn bashing here). I've simply had enough of it all. My sadistic ending.


	4. Unstoppable

Disclaimer : I own Zieth and my opinion. Everything else belongs to their respective creators, owners, gods, designers, programmers, so on and so forth, whoever they may be. There's far too many to list.

I still make absolutely _no_ apology for what I'm doing. For soothing notes, see the start of chapter 1.

This is still not a story for children. It has this rating because I plan to use a little gore. Children, leave now. If you are still reading this, know I will not be responsible for any behaviour occuring later on in your life, be it two minutes from now or twenty years.

Feel free to review, but don't bother making any fuss about Rowling corrections and accuracy. I quite honestly couldn't care less, as should become blatantly obvious.

The Assassins' morality seems to have been replaced by a sort of Terminator-style reasoning and 'get-the-mission-done' attitude... oh well. That's how it is then.

For any of the Assassin spells/skills, please check out Diablo 2. They will be mentioned here as from the point of view of an Assassin – simply as a skill that they all understand and can use. Apologies if they are not used completely correctly. Particularly Cloak of Shadows and a slightly modified use of Shadow Warrior/Master (why shouldnt you be able to have one of each at one time?)

Evil is Just a Point of View

4 – Unstoppable

Zieth was not a part of the carnage in the Great Hall. She didn't need to be. Great demon-slayers and witch-hunters were there. She was on of the many who came across the moving staircases and talking portraits.

One of those places.

Ghosts, already knowing the killing that was taking place, came pouring out of the walls. Against them stood the Viz-Jaq'taar with claws that aided them against undead, and tore them to wispy ribbons.

Dormitories opened and it seemed as if all the Hells had broken loose. For the students, at any rate. Very few of the Witch-Hunters had not walked in Hell and this was nothing at all like the demon-spawn of the great pits. Far less gruesome for a start.

If the wizards thought that their magic could aid them in any way, they were wrong. The Asssassins' armour and shields stopped most of their assaults. Their elemental power tore through arcane defence. Though Shadows Warriors and Masters were destroyed, they were respawned in a heartbeat, so the attack never ceased. And another of the Viz-Jaq'taar's great skills – the Cobra Strike. Each swipe of the claws drained the victim of both life-force and magic, and passed it on to the Assassin. While they were strengthened, the young wizards weakened and fell before them.

Blood pooled on the floors. As much as claws were used to concentrate the power of the elements, they were as sharp as the real thing, stronger than any metal and they tore through the students like a knife through a bag of water. Limbs were severed, maimed, and the Assassins had no remorse, they showed no mercy. To allow the corruption to live on was unthinkable. Pleas for life went unheard, and the Assassins cut them down murderously, and they knew it.

Fires went unchecked, results of wizard spells and elemental skills. Acid burned through many a portrait, shattered ice littered the ground. In only a few minutes a school had become a battle ground, and just as quickly, that battle ground had become a graveyard.

Zieth arced her claws down on a older girl, watched as they tore deep through her shoulder, watched as two twirls of light gathered around her own body. She didn't wait to make a third strike – if she had her concentrated finishing move would have twice the amount of power, but she could see she didn't need it to fell the girl.

Dragon Claw, her favourite finisher, brought both claws down on the young witch, unleashing the concentrated power of the spinning orbs, and felt herself replenished even as the girl fell to the ground, her blood spreading, mingling with that of many others. She had stolen her life force, replacing what she had lost to some god-forsaken spell.

She paused to watch some of the students attempt an aerial attack from, of all things, flying brooms. It was not to help them, it appeared, as several Assassins used Dragon Flight to jump them straight to the brooms, kicking them down, a powerful enough move to kill many of them on impact. Blood rained from those battles, and bodies hit the ground with crunching thuds, falling to mangled heaps. Even that did not kill some, but awaiting Viz-Jaq'taar finished the job, slicing blooded claws across throats, sinking them deep into unprotected hearts.

In her still moment, Zieth saw several of the children closing what appeared to be a door on one side, a portrait on the other. Her Shadow Master and Warrior at her back, Zieth danced lightly over the carnage around her, skipping over moving balustrades. Other Assassins had seen it also, and just as determined not to let any get away, they flocked to the door.

But it had closed, the portrait screeching obscenities at them. Zieth glared at her, never one for talking portraits, and raked her claws through the picture, and the woman fell silent and fled.

Again, Dragon Flight, invaluable, rendered the door's purpose useless, bringing her straight to the students inside, joined almost unanimously by her fellow Viz-Jaq'taar. Red and gold were the dominant colours of this room, but soon the gold went unseen by the red stains. Blood flew with the force of the blows the Witch-Hunters landed.

Zieth and her two Shadows followed fleeing students up stairs. While Zieth herself followed three in particular, allowing her Shadows to wreak destruction of their own. They could expire, she didn't care. More could and would be summoned.

The girl amongst the three turned lifted her wand, landing some spell on her. It shattered on her blade shield, sending two of them into oblivion, but the Viz-Jaq'taar went unscathed, her stride never stopping.

"You evil creature!" the girl screamed at her.

"As are you," Zieth snarled back, locking her claw onto the wand, flicking it away too easily. Her other hand was already moving, her lighting enchanted claw slipping up and through the girl's throat easily, her eyes widening. Blood spilled easily, quickly and the girl gurgled through the metal through her throat.

The two boys who had been with her screamed in outright defiance, but it went unheard, mingling with all the sounds of dying.

"Evil is just a point of view." Her first claw came down through the girl's shoulder, pushing her roughly to the ground, the wounds fatal if for some reason she wasn't already dead.

One of the remaining students also lifted his wand, summoning a deer-like creature. It appeared only to be made of light, however, passing straight through Zieth as she continued to stalk forward.

Two pale orbs already in play from the girl, Zieth gained her third from sinking a claw into the stomach of the wand-wielding student, a boy with glasses. Her fourth hit was her ever powerful Dragon Claw, which unleashed the ice-elemental of the Phoenix Strike. Cold wounds hurt, she knew that, and what was more, the Chaos Ice Bolt that had emerged also went far to do harm to the second, red-headed, boy. She didn't even need the elemental concentration of her martial skills to finish them. One claw dripping poison, the other sparking lighting, she raked them through the boys, targeting softer skin, achieving larger pools of blood.

That done, she spun on her heel and returned to the larger fight.

Hmm... much more nasty than I intended. So much fun though, all this hacking and bleeding. Mwa haha. Has a kind of feel that reminds me of the attack on the Jedi Temple from the recent ROTS (sorry if I just spoiled that for you, forget you read that last sentence.) Ultimate murder and carnage... all in a day's work.


	5. Corruption Ended

Disclaimer : I own Zieth and my opinion. Everything else belongs to their respective creators, owners, gods, designers, programmers, so on and so forth, whoever they may be. There's far too many to list.

I still make absolutely _no_ apology for what I'm doing. For soothing notes, see the start of chapter 1.

This is still not a story for children. It has this rating because I plan to use a little gore. Children, leave now. If you are still reading this, know I will not be responsible for any behaviour occuring later on in your life, be it two minutes from now or twenty years.

Feel free to review, but don't bother making any fuss about Rowling corrections and accuracy. I quite honestly couldn't care less, as should become blatantly obvious.

The Assassins' morality seems to have been replaced by a sort of Terminator-style reasoning and 'get-the-mission-done' attitude... oh well. That's how it is then.

Evil is Just a Point of View

5 – Corruption Ended

The battle, just like the war, was over. Assassins stood amongst the slain, none of them their own. Their own dead had been pulled back to their own realm by their angels and would meet them once more in the hidden home of the Viz-Jaq'taar, Order of the Mage-Slayers, Witch-Hunters, Assassins.

Teachers and students had died fighting. But they had died nonetheless. The army of the Viz-Jaq'taar was ready to move on to other battles. This world was not yet purged of its magical corruption.

The portal had already been opened and the majority of the Assassins had returned to their own world to replenish their stores of rejuvenation potions. After that, they would move on to other schools, other pockets of this world's hidden societies. And just as they had here, just as they had the Dark Lord's seclusion, they would destroy. Whatever result it left behind, the Viz-Jaq'taar did not care. All they were here to do was remove the corruption. And they did.

Those Witch-Hunters with the highest resistance to fire stood within the halls and waited while the castle burned around them. The fires of battle had been fanned after their victory, added to. The school would be wiped completely from existence. A few wizards who had hidden were driven out by the flames and promptly killed, with all the efficiency of the Assassins' training.

Only when the building was finally coming down around them did the last of the Viz-Jaq'taar leave.

They would return to this world soon enough. Any wizard or witch who escaped the carnage of Hogwarts would find no refuge amongst their own people, not while the Viz-Jaq'taar continued their campaign. And even after the shadow army had devastated and left, the Planar Travellers would continue to keep watch on the world of Earth and take care of any stragglers themselves.

And thus, the corruption was ended.

_The campaign in Toril was never started. While the attention of the Viz-Jaq'taar was on Earth, the Duke of Hell had been defeated by a hero emerging from Toril itself. The imminent danger was passed, and magic was used daily and openly there. Any evil was quickly slain by a hero, and the Viz-Jaq'taar Assassins never needed to travel there._

And it's over. Don't get me wrong, I love the Diablo 2 Assassin class, its the only one I will use. I don't think they would be as cold and bloodthirsty as I've made them out to be, but I needed them to be like that so I could do what I really wanted to do, which was obviously a bit of wizard killing. Who better than the Witch-Hunters themselves? If you liked how this went, or even if you didn't, go and check out hazy.skies. net/ awi/ (this editor is being ridiculous... no www at the front, just http, then prementioned address, no spaces) (not my site) the torture section is somewhat amusing. (Note: this site is not intended for children) And either join the clique or send them flames to keep them amused.


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